Drive
by redwalgrl-RG
Summary: Roy needs to learn to shut up and just drive. YAOI. Slight AU.


**Drive**

Am I the only one who's made this connection? Yes? Well, whatever. Here's your crappy yaoi smut.

**Rating: TEH YAOI. ****In other words, M.**

**Genre(s): Romance/Parody**

**Original Characters: HAH ****HAH**

**Out of ****Characterness****: Yeah, ****y'know**** what, shut up.**

**Pairing: Roy x ****TerminArcher****Which is not what I will refer to him as in the ****fic****, but ****y'know**

**Summary: Roy really needs to learn to keep his trap shut. Just shut up and fucking drive.**

-+-

**I've been ****lookin****' for a driver who is qualified****So**** if you think that you're the one step into my ride**

"Sir, are you sure about this? This is really a stupid idea…"

"Shut up."

The Cadet sighed, pushing the hat back further on his head, unable to figure out how someone who wasn't even human managed to rank higher than him in the military. "Sir, in your condition…"

"I'm fucking fine,"

"If you say so sir…"

**I'm a fine-tuned supersonic speed machine****With**** a sunroof top and a gangster lean**

That was possibly the lie of the century. Frank Archer was far from fine. The hulking automail had claimed the left half of his body, weighing down the right half, and of course making him overall more irritable than he normally was. Which was really irritable. The metal itself was some of the toughest out there, built for attack and defense, not for convenience or anything of the sort.

Frank Archer was a living weapon. And for a war-mongering, power-hungry sadist with a god-complex, he should have been happier about it. After all, now he was near unstoppable. Alchemy couldn't even bring him down. Wasn't that what he wanted? To control rather than be controlled?

Well, he was being controlled. He was even more of a military puppet than he had been before. They were the ones pulling the strings. And they were the ones giving the medication that was keeping him living. If you even called this 'living', that is.

The red automail eye was already scanning the area as the Cadet escorted him into Central Headquarters. It was silent, too silent. "Where's Colonel Mustang?"

"Sir?"

"Where the hell is he?"

**So if you feel me let me know, know, know****Come on now what you ****waitin****' for, for, for**

It was terribly embarrassing, he thought. To be so interested in that man, even now. After all, who in their right mind would even consider someone like him human? And why was he still so desperate to see those obsidian eyes, that expression of near hate whenever he looked at him…

As if hate really meant love.

Yes, Archer had a damn _crush_ on the Flame Alchemist. It was so stupid, to be chasing after something like that, even now, but what choice did he have? It was instinct, and dammit, he worked on instinct. Well, sometimes. Okay, rarely. Things had changed now that he was mostly metal, shut up.

"He's down the hall sir…"

**My engine's ready to explode, explode, explode****So start me up and watch me go, go, go**

Archer nodded and hauled the bulky automail off down the hall, stopping once he reached Roy's door to regain his breath. Damn, this was far harder than he made it look! Then again, he was Archer. He could make anything look easy.

_Knock, knock._

Barely a few seconds later the door was open and Roy was there, staring. It was still a downward look for the taller hero of Ishbal, but that didn't seem to matter to Archer. It never had before. "May I come in?"

"S-sure…" The other stuttered, surprise written all over his face. Might as well take a fucking marker to his face, it was so obvious.

"Thank you," Not entirely meant, but not entirely sarcastic. Archer managed to fit through the door somehow and made his way to the couch, sitting down only to remember that sitting was a huge no-no. Well, with only half an ass, what did you expect? Shifting uncomfortably, he stated, "Well, Mustang. It's come down to this. In my current… _condition_, I'm unfit to lead the country. Therefore the next possible Fuhrer is, well, yourself. I'm willing to stand down and allow you the throne…"

"On one condition," They stated together, Roy taking a seat across from Archer in a chair, shifting a little himself, as if he understood the pain of only having half an ass.

"Yes, just one condition." Archer repeated, deciding it was easier to stand up. "You see, in my current state, I'm not getting much of anything done…"

"What do you want?"

"Fuck me."

**Get you where you ****wanna**** go if you know what I mean****Got**** a ride that's smoother than a limousine**

Archer watched Roy's face pale to a color that could almost compare with his own. "You want… what?"

"You don't think I'm capable, is that it?" Archer asked, offended. Sure the array had cut him nearly clean in half, but like hell he'd gone and lost his dick. He wasn't _that_ stupid. Roy on the other hand…

Said Colonel's mouth opened and closed several times, trying to come up with something to say. "B-but… you… how…?"

"The metal is actually really good with oil-based lubricant…" Archer mused, reaching into the pocket of his pants, producing a small bottle for Roy.

The look he was giving Archer clearly said he didn't want to know how the half-automail man knew that.

**Can you handle the curves? Can you run out the last?****If you can baby boy then we can go all night**

"So can you do it, Mustang?" Archer asked, a small smirk settling into the human side of his face. "Can you do this?"

"And if I don't… you'll continue to get in my way on my rise to the top."

"Good, you learn fast."

"…" Roy was too easy to read, he was obviously weighing the options. Really though, all he had to do was fuck, it wasn't that hard. Stupid man. "…Alright."

"Excellent." Archer stated, the smirk turning into a near-genuine smile before disappearing as Archer struggled with the clothing. Damn, he knew this was going to be a problem. It was hooked and clasped on in a way near impossible for him to do or undo on his own. Finally he managed to get the pants off, but the jacket was another thing entirely. After all, the clasp would have to be in the middle of his back. Not even with the longer automail arm could he do anything to get it to come off. "Fuck…!"

Roy then moved over and unsnapped the clasp without any trouble at all, and then returned around to stare at Archer in full. And yes, stare, not look.

"That's rather rude." Archer snapped, attempting to fold his arms and failing miserably. It was impossible with the way the automail arm was made. But he knew Roy was staring at the reddened line of flesh verses metal, and the large scarring all over his chest, where the skin had been grafted to support the automail. It hurt, of course, but he hated that look even more.

"Sorry," Roy mumbled, apparently still out of it. He quickly disrobed as well, picking the oil lubricant up off the table and examining it. "Are you sure…?"

"Positive."

**Goes from 0 to 60 in three point five****Baby you got the keys****Now shut up and ****drive****(Drive, drive, drive)**

So with that Archer spread himself out on the floor, being unable to use the couch and properly balance. "Get on with it."

Roy merely nodded and squatted between Archer's legs for a moment, still apparently in shock about all of this. "Isn't there anything else…?"

"No." Archer cut him off. "There isn't. Now get to it. The sooner we're done the sooner you can move on."

Well of course Archer was right, and that reflected in Roy's expression as he smeared the lubricant over his own cock, lifting Archer's right leg up to support on his shoulder, obviously not being able to do anything with the automail left leg. "If you're ready."

"Of course."

No further ado, Roy slipped in as far as he could go, surprised at how easy the glide in was. And the glide out. And back in. And out again. It was so easy, easier than any other man he'd been with.

Well, obviously Archer knew about Havoc and Hughes and Fuery and Breda… and every other man in the department. Was it any wonder why he'd been attracted to Roy? They said he was the best at fucking. They were damn right. Archer's mechanical voice let out a moan he wasn't able to suppress, sounding so weird in this tone of voice rather than his original… Then again, the only time he'd gotten fucked back then was with Kimbley…

**Shut up and ****drive****(Drive, drive, drive)**

"A-are you… d-does this h-hurt…?" Roy stuttered out, holding himself still for a moment.

"No, no it doesn't." Archer groaned softly, human hand reaching up to cling to Roy's shoulder aside, automail one clinging to his own leg. "Shut up. Just shut up and fuck me."

**I got class like a '57 Cadillac****Got**** all the drive with a whole lot of boom in the back.**

"Mm…" Roy let out a soft purr in pleasure himself, continuing to shove in and out, in and out with so much more ease than ever before. Maybe this automail was a good thing…

Archer didn't make any movements though, not wanting to mess Roy up, or even worse, clench to hard and sever his dick. Hmm. That wouldn't be very good, would it? Nope, he'd let Roy do all the work.

Roy finally reached down and wrapped an oddly warm hand around Archer's untended to cock, purring lightly as he ran his hand up and over the slit, down the other side, across the vein, and then down to palm his balls. "Feel good?"

**You look like you can handle ****whats**** under my hood****You**** keep saying that you will boy I wish you would**

How was he so good at this!? "Y-yes," The mechanized voice stuttered out without Archer's consent. Sometimes he hated that voice, it spoke before he'd even decided on what he was thinking. Maybe the engineers knew that, Archer was possibly the most fickle man in the world. But he knew he wanted this, and now here, there was no doubt in his mind at all.

"Am I doing well?"

Did this man just like to talk during sex!? Sex was sex! No talking! Ugh! "Fuck… yes!"

**So if you feel me let me know, know, know****Come on now what you ****waitin****' for, for, for****My engine's ready to explode, explode, explode****So start me up and watch me go, go, go, go**

It was impossible, how was he already almost to that point? It wasn't possible, he had never gotten off on all of this that quickly. Then again, he'd never been a half-metal monster.

Roy seemed pleased with himself as well, but then again, that man would fuck anything with a semblance of a penis, it seemed. "You're almost there,"

"Fucking ready to explode," Archer growled back, remembering Kimbley saying the same thing to him not all that long ago. Well, the idiot had gotten himself killed… no need to think about that. "So just fucking finish it!"

"Language, language," Roy teased and shoved in harder that time, brushing up against the other Colonel's prostate. "Mmahh…" The clenching under him was nearly too much. Just a few more thrusts and he'd…

Well, it was too late for Archer, he groaned loudly and arched up slightly, cumming hard across Roy's hand and his own automail and human stomach. He fell back panting hard, but managing to add, "Don't cum in me," He'd rust.

**Get you where you ****wanna**** go if you know what I mean****Got**** a ride that's smoother than a limousine****Can you handle the cu****rves? Can you run out the last?****If you can baby boy then we can go all night**

Roy let out a loud moan, leaning down to stifle it by pressing his lips to the automail and flesh of Archer's.

_That_ was unexpected. Archer's ice human eye popped open, and the automail red eye swiveled down to stare at Roy in bemused shock. What the hell was he _doing_?

Then Roy pulled out suddenly and moaned his release straight into the carpet. That was going to be a tough stain to get out, they both noticed in some distant part of the mind. "D-damn…"

"Good, aren't I?"

Roy wasn't sure what to say to that.

**Goes from 0 to 60 in three point five****Baby you got the keys****Now shut up and ****drive****(Drive, drive, drive)**

"So you'll stay out of my office affairs?"

"That was the agreement."

"Very good then," Roy nodded, watching Archer struggle with his uniform again, and once again getting up to help him with it. "But if you need anything else…"

"Shut up." Archer retorted, though didn't really mean it. Maybe. Either way he shook his head and started out of the office, ignoring questions about why he seemed more flustered than usual. Though the next Cadet that asked him nearly got hit in the head with the arm cannon on the back of the automail arm. Heh. Not like it was on purpose or anything…

**Shut up and ****drive****(Drive, drive, drive)**

-+-

**Cause' you play that game, got wh****at I got (get it get it****Don't s****top, It's a sure shot**

"There's been an attack on the Fuhrer's mansion…"

"Don't worry, Fuhrer King, I'm on my way."

How he'd managed to get there without his human sight was beyond him, but here he was, staring up at the Fuhrer's mansion and more importantly, searching for those damn rebels. They were costing him everything, weren't they? He had no chance of promotion and whatnot, not anymore, not after killing his own men. What choice did he have? Who knew how many of them were rebels?

There he was, Roy Mustang. He would be the leader of them, wouldn't he? Archer drew up the gun, training it on the man's head, watching Roy's slight glance of shock.

**Aint**** no Ferrari, huh boy, I'm sorry****I ****ain't**** even worried****So**** step inside and ride**

"Y-you said…"

"You really think I keep my word? You should know better than that."

Roy slowly set down the boy, the Fuhrer's son, Archer believed, and slowly walked down the steps, holding out his hands in a sign of peace. "Please, didn't I give you what you wanted?"

_Click._"Take another step and I swear I'll kill you," Archer growled, snapping the safety off and still training it on Roy's head, automail arm shaking slightly in exertion. That grenade had done horrid damage to the human side of his body, he was certain he had a good several bones broken, as well as his sight permanently taken.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Frank."

"Don't…"

**So if you feel me let me know, know, know****Come on now what you ****waitin****' for, for, for****My engine's ready to explode, explode, explode****So start me up and watch me go, go, go, go**

"I'll help, I'll make it better, please," Roy walked over finally, resting his hands on automail and human shoulder, without any difference between them.

"I-I can't… I have to… I have orders…"

"Put them aside. Can't you at least think about yourself? What do you want?"

"What do I…?" Archer asked , focusing up at the other man with the automail eye, watching his outline move gently from his breathing and heartbeat. "I want…" No, words couldn't quite get the point across. So he dropped the gun and pulled Roy down by the shirtfront to where he could once again press his lips to Roy's, like the other had all those weeks ago…

**Get you where you ****wanna**** go if you know what I mean****Got**** a ride that's smoother than a limousine****Can you handle the curves? Can you run out the last?****If you can baby boy then we can go all night**

Roy didn't seem to mind the taste of blood or broken teeth against Archer's lips, instead returning the kiss around the broken cannon, moving a hand down to Archer's human waist, the other to the back of his head in a firm embrace. "I'm here for you."

"Wh-why…?" It was so strange, that _anyone_ would be here. And why? They'd had sex once. Archer was the one with the crush on Roy, he was the one hoping that this would happen, and yet he was the one who had nearly killed Roy.

"It started awhile ago… before this… I thought…" Roy paused to laugh softly. "Well, I guess you can say I had a little… _crush_ on you."

Well, irony wasn't that much of a bitch it seemed.

**Goes from 0 to 60 in three point five****Baby you got the keys****Now shut up and ****drive****(Drive, drive, drive)**

"I think we're both in need of medical attention." Roy mused lightly.

"I guess…"

Roy smiled lightly and pressed his lips to Archer's metal and flesh forehead and then added, "So after this, you interested in more sex?"

"Shut up. Just shut up."

**Shut up and ****drive****(Drive, drive, drive)**


End file.
